


Connecting the Dots

by balmandbitterness



Category: Choices app, The Freshman Series (Visual Novels)
Genre: Bisexuality, Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Questioning, i mean if you decide that in canon chris quietly has a period of self discovery, it follows the plot is what i'm saying, wherein he realizes he is bisexual and develops feelings for zig, which i certainly have so i don't see why you can't
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-07-29 01:27:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16253828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balmandbitterness/pseuds/balmandbitterness
Summary: It starts at the Aurora Music Festival, or maybe it doesn't. It starts in the van on the way there, or it doesn't. It starts at the dance, or in the coffee shop, or during any number of student council meetings. Either way, it starts.Chris falls. Zig catches him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> look at me, starting a new tag again. i'm afraid this may become a habit.

It’s not like being told a secret, or reading a news article, where you don’t know something and then you do. It’s more like connecting the dots, or doing a color-by-number, or putting together a jigsaw puzzle without looking at the box first. The picture grows gradually clearer and clearer until you can step back and take it in. A lion or a pastoral scene or a vase full of red carnations. “Oh,” you think, “that’s what it was. That’s what I’ve been working toward this whole time.” And you can’t shake the feeling that somehow you knew all along.

~

It starts here: Chris and Laura are waiting in the van while Zack and Zig buy gas and snacks and they’re just talking and it kind of slips out. Not how he had planned to do this, but that’s alright. It’s Laura. She gets it.

They’re parked at a rest stop on the way to New York to pick up James and Laura is saying how once James joins them Chris will lose his esteemed position as their single token heterosexual, jokingly reassuring him that it’s alright, he’s still the only jock they’ve got, and he laughs and then he makes a sort of pensive noise, staring into the depths of some tie-dye printed poster on the wall. God, you could get lost in that thing if you managed to look at it long enough without going blind.

Which is probably why he doesn’t notice the way Laura is looking at him for like a full thirty seconds. When he tears his eyes away from the nauseous swirl of color she’s watching him, head tilted slightly, like a puppy encountering something new.

“Hmm?” she says, like that should mean something to him.

“Hmm what?”

“You said _hmm_. I was just wondering if it was a significant _hmm_.”

“Uh, maybe?” says Chris. “Just that I’ve been thinking about that lately.”

“Being our token jock?”

And that’s an easy way out for sure. He could say something about football and Laura would pretend to listen out of courtesy while actually daydreaming about Kaitlyn or the Aurora Music Festival or something and then the subject would be dropped without ever really coming up. Or he could just tell her “never mind,” and she’d know something’s up but she wouldn’t know what and odds were pretty good she wouldn’t push it. Laura is nosy, sure, but she isn’t an ass. There are a million ways out of this.

Chris doesn’t take any of them.

“No,” he says finally, “being your token heterosexual.”

Laura’s head tilts a millimeter more to the left, a wordless prompt.

“About the possibility of stepping down from the position,” he clarifies.

She nods. “Well, you can still keep the sash if that’s what you’re worried about.” She nudges him with her elbow and he relaxes a little.

“Oh good, I worked hard to earn that.”

“I know. You threw SO many footballs. It was a touchdownpalooza.”

Chris laughs. “That’s not even a thing,” he tells her, “It’s – Listen,” he says, already seeing the dreaming-about-Kaitlyn look in her eyes at the prospect of a lesson on football terminology. “This isn’t the point.”

“Ok,” she says. “So what _is_ the point?”

“Uh.” Chris scratches at his chin, vaguely wondering when he last shaved. This road trip is really throwing off his schedule. “I guess I’m not really sure yet.”

“Fair enough.”

They’re quiet for a while. It’s… comfortable, oddly enough. He feels like he should probably feel more awkward about this. Instead he slings an arm around Laura’s shoulders and says, “Hey, if I figure it out, I promise you’ll be the first to know.”

Laura pounces on him in what would be a grade-A tackle if she weighed more than like six pounds, and also if she wasn’t going “Aww, you love me!” and hugging him.

Then Chris catches sight of Zig through the window, tee rucked up a little like he’s just been stretching, carrying a family size bag of gummy worms. He knows they’re Chris’ favorite.

“Well,” Chris amends, throat suddenly feeling very dry, “maybe the second to know.”

Laura pulls back, pressing her hand to her heart in mock hurt. “Oh, I see how it is,” she says. “I’m not your bestie anymore. I’ve been demoted to second string. Left on the bench. I’m not the QB of your heart anymore.” Her voice rises to an utterly hysterical pitch as she wipes away imaginary tears of betrayal. “Put me back on the field coach! Don’t you care about this team at all!”

They’re still laughing when Zig opens the door, and the look he gives them is both fond and confused when Chris chokes out “Please, I’m begging you. Stop pretending to understand football.”

~

Maybe it doesn’t start there. Maybe it started before the road trip, before Zack ever called him up at a ludicrous hour babbling excitedly about adventure. Maybe it started with the scholarship proposal, when Zig came through for him despite everything. Maybe it started with the smile on Zig’s face, in his eyes, when he told Chris he’d been accepted to Hartfeld. Hell, maybe it started when he met Zig.

Or maybe it was just always there. Waiting.

~

They make it to Austin and Mr. Liao breaks out the pride mugs and Zack snatches up the “G” mug immediately, claiming it’s his birthright. Laura passes Chris the “Q” mug and takes the “B” for herself.

“Q” for questioning, he guesses. It could be a coincidence, only a second later Laura waggles her eyebrows at him as she takes a pointed sip. He tries not to snort into his oolong.

After Laura goes upstairs to help Kaitlyn pack, Zig steals her half empty mug. He leaves the “L” one in its place.

James raises an eyebrow. “Resorting to thievery, are we?”

“Her name starts with L,” Zig says. “This is much more fair. She’s lucky I didn’t make her arm wrestle me for the bi mug.”

Chris looks at Zig’s arms. For like, the millionth time, if he’s being honest. He has to agree.

~

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

The concert is over and it’s dark and humid and the fleeting lights of fireflies hang suspended in the cooling air. Chris sits in the grass next to Zig and says the words before he can decide not to.

Zig nods slowly. Everything feels slow now, feels quiet, after the rush of sound and energy that was the festival. The sudden calm is like wading through honey. Chris licks his lips, not sure how to continue.

“This have something to do with how you’ve been looking at me different lately?” Zig asks. “Or have I been imagining that?”

“Do you think you’ve been imagining it?”

“I did at first.” Zig looks at him for a moment, thoughtful, maybe a little gratified, like he’s fitting together a jigsaw puzzle. “I’m starting to rethink that theory.” Like the pieces have just locked into place.

Chris sinks his fingers into the grass and looks up at the sky for a moment. It’s dark slate blue and full of stars. The stars don’t give him any advice on how to do this. God, maybe he should’ve asked someone for advice on how to do this. Laura, he guesses, since she has some idea about it anyway. But he doesn’t think he can just put this on hold and come back later. He lets out a long breath. “Ok, so I’m not very good at this,” he admits, looking back at Zig. He can’t exactly ask him for advice but Zig is, at least, more communicative than the stars (notwithstanding what Abby is always saying about astrology).

“Not very good at what?” Zig asks, brow crinkling slightly, and Chris has the sudden senseless impulse to smooth it out for him. God, yeah, Zig definitely hasn’t been imagining anything. Chris sounds like a character in James’ play.

“The whole… banter thing, I guess. Apparently I’m too earnest.” Zack had told him that once and patted his hand sympathetically. Chris had figured that was condescending, but fair.

It gets a grin out of Zig, anyway, so Chris will forget whatever indignation he might have felt about it. “That’s not a bad thing, you know,” says Zig. “You’re a straightforward sort of person. You say what you mean.” The grin has faded into something softer, and Chris maybe kind of misses the sight of his teeth (and he really hopes that isn’t weird), but the way Zig is looking at him now. Well. He doesn’t have any complaints about it. “I’ve always appreciated that about you." 

Chris swallows. "Oh.”

“So maybe you should try just saying what you mean?”

Yeah, alright, that sounds doable. “I think I like you,” Chris says. “A lot.”

That look on Zig’s face doesn’t waver, warmer than the air, as he says “Now that wasn’t so hard,” and touches his fingers to Chris’ jaw, and leans in.

The touch of his lips lasts only a moment and, oddly enough, it’s not even what clears things up -– not that it was a waste, by any means (and the stubble is, well. It’s interesting). But Zig’s still got that same soft look on when he pulls away, when Chris open his eyes and internally takes stock of the situation, and that’s what sort of snaps things into place.

“More sure now,” Chris says, and kisses him again.

Zig laughs quietly. “Sure enough to want to get dinner sometime?”

“Oh, definitely.” The others are probably looking for them by now, but he thinks they can stall for a minute. Or two. Chris kind of doesn’t want to leave this moment: the balmy night, the air thick as honey, Zig’s hand resting on his knee. The weird lightness in his ribcage. The feeling that they’ve arrived somewhere.

He’ll have grass stains on his jeans later, but that’s fine.

Then Kaitlyn’s voice rings out, calling for them, and the spell isn’t quite broken but he knows it’s time to go. To meet up with their friends again and leave the moment behind.

It’ll still be there, Chris knows. Waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> somewhere in the midst of the freshman book four, part of my brain (and this is the same part that compels me to buy too many plaid shirts and fall hopelessly in love with every girl wearing a nose ring) said "chris and zig should fall for each other and be just unbearably tender about it." and i said "you are a lawless hooligan who impedes my daily living but you are as always absolutely correct."
> 
> so here we are.
> 
> this was going to be a one shot, just this chapter, more about chris learning something new about himself and finding the courage to act on it than about like, the actual relationship itself. but alas i have no self control. so we're in for uh... several more chapters. god knows how many. or he better, cause i sure don't.


	2. Chapter 2

September comes fast. 

Zig finds himself sitting across a table from Chris, sharing an order of garlic knots under fluorescent lighting and the occasional stare of a bored cashier with nothing better to do than people watch. 

So far, it's pretty much perfect. 

They ran into each other in the coffee shop earlier and immediately started talking about how weird everything is. Chris is renting a house with their friends now, Zig’s still not sure how to feel about his new roommates, and they're varying levels of nervous about their second and first years of college respectively. At some point, someone said “Hey, are you hungry?” and they decided that now was as good a time as any for that dinner. 

So here they are, at their usual pizza delivery place, because they're both broke but dinner’s dinner. There are only three tables and the chairs are mismatched and the floor is sticky and the fridge is intermittently making this awful buzzing noise from right behind Chris. Zig keeps having to make a conscious effort not to grin like a doofus. 

“I’m pretty sure you're not supposed to eat garlic on a first date,” he says. “It's like rule one.”

Chris jams another garlic knot in his mouth and swallows. Possibly he's part snake. “Yeah, but if we're both eating it then it doesn't matter. It cancels out.”

“I think I did read that in Cosmo,” says Zig. “Hey, did you know that spatulas have seven uses in the bedroom?”

“If you make me listen to you recite an imaginary Cosmo article I’m going to eat all of these without you.”

“Imaginary, he says, like I haven't seen terrible things living with three sisters.”

“The threat stands. Also now I’m stuck trying to think of a fourth use for a spatula. It's upsetting, those are for food.”

“Cosmo writers have no fear of god.”

“Then tell your sisters to stick to Teen Vogue like the rest of us.”

Zig raises his eyebrows. 

“Abby has a subscription. They give good hair care tips.”

Zig looks at Chris’ hair. It's gotten longer since he last saw him and he kind of wants to run his hands through it. _Really_ wants to run his hands through it, actually. “Huh. Well, it's working.”

Chris grins. 

They eat their pizza and drink their sodas and try to decide whether the fridge is making that noise because it's full of bees or because it’s been bugged by the NSA because this pizza place is actually a secret meeting spot for international spies. They start talking in code to throw off the agents, or possibly the bees, and then the cashier starts looking at them funny and they decide it's time to take their italian ices to go. 

It's warm outside, the seasons just on the verge of turning, the sun just going down. It’ll be cool soon. Zig and Chris walk side by side, half aimless, half heading toward campus. 

“Okay, so… Ryan Summers, Cassandra Leigh, and Matt Rodriguez.”

“Hmm…” Zig considers. His and Chris’ linked hands swing gently between them as they walk. “Fuck, marry, kill. In that order.”

“You'd kill Matt Rodriguez?” Chris looks at him in disbelief. His mouth is cherry red from the ices. “I always thought he seemed really nice in interviews.”

“I don't have anything against him, it's just process of elimination,” Zig reasons. “Cassandra Leigh is a well known philanthropist and a Hollywood legend. Not to mention gorgeous. I would _totally_ be her cougar bait trophy husband.” Chris laughs and Zig squeezes his hand a little. “Now, Ryan,” he continues, “seems like a classy guy. He would definitely wine and dine me first. And I think we’d all like to see what Ryan Summers breaks out to impress a date. Probably, like, hundred-year-old champagne or something. I don't know, I don't know anything about wine. Or fancy things in general. So that just leaves Matt. He's gotta die.”

“Still, that's harsh.”

“Well, who would you pick?”

Chris hums in thought. “Man, I don't know. I don't wanna kill anyone.”

“I don't think you understand this game.”

“Well it's a silly game. I’d rather pick fuck or marry for all of them.”

Zig snorts. “That's not a game, that's just a foursome fantasy.” They toss their empty paper cups in the trash can on the corner and wait for the light to change so they can cross. 

Chris leans against the base of the stoplight and crosses his arms. “Okay, but are you saying you wouldn't have that foursome?”

“Hmm. Tempting. But I think I’m more of a one-on-one kinda guy.”

“Alright then. Victoria Fontaine… Chris Winters… and me?” He eyes Zig a little uncertainly and licks his lips in a way that looks more like a nervous habit than a conscious act.

Zig steps in closer, crowding Chris against the pole, eyes on his ice-red mouth. “Don't you think it's a little early for us to be talking about... you know. Murder?”

Chris huffs a quiet laugh and curls a hand around the back of Zig’s neck. 

He tastes like cherries. 

~

September proves to be pretty hectic. Zig has been out of school just long enough to have forgotten the rhythm of classes, schoolwork, studying. Add in his job and his new spot on the Hartfeld football team and he has to learn to balance fast. Chris, for his part, is busy with student council, plus he's newly team captain and taking to it with a lot of promise but even more anxiety. They mostly see each other at practice, where Chris can't play favorites, or the coffee shop, where Zig is busy with customers. They go on another date, which goes about as well as the first one. They click. They work. They're comfortable together. They just don't really have time, is the problem. 

They do make out a couple times in the locker room after everyone else leaves. So it's a little tacky. Sue him. 

~

“Hey, I know I already said I’m sorry about that thing with Manny earlier, but…”

Zig looks up. Chris is leaning against the wall across from him, not meeting his eyes. Zig shuts his locker and shrugs. “You can’t take sides, I get it. But you also can’t keep apologizing for _his_ behavior.”

“Right. I know you’re right. But he’s never going to and, Jesus, _someone_ should.” He half-sits, half-collapses on the bench and sighs like he’s deflating. Losing the homecoming game was rough on everyone but Chris is definitely taking it the worst.

Zig sits down next to him. “Becca was right, you know. This isn’t the end of the world.”

“Hey, I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be supporting you right now, not the other way around.”

“You’re trying to support an entire team right now. Plus the student council. You really wanna add another name to the list?”

Chris looks indignant. “You’re not just another name. You’re _Zig_. You’re important.”

Zig tries to stifle an embarrassingly stupid grin. “I’m important, huh.”

“Obviously.”

“Then you can do me the favor of not giving yourself another thing to worry about.”

Chris shakes his head, but he's looking marginally less dejected. “Yeah, no can do, I’m afraid. Getting worried about is just part of the deal.”

Zig sighs dramatically. “Fine. Then can you at least do me the favor of kissing me?”

“Done.”

~

In early October Zig is hanging out with everyone at the house watching sitcom reruns and Kaitlyn asks if he's seeing anyone. “This girl Naya saw me talking to you at the Horse Cave and thought you were cute,” she says through a mouthful of popcorn. “She's the bassist for Puddle of Poison. She's really nice. I told her I’d ask if I could introduce her.”

“Oh, uh…” He glances over at Chris, who is suddenly extremely interested in Joey and Chandler’s wacky exploits. There's something going on with a duck. How _will_ they get out of this one? “I’m sure she's great and all but I’m just not really looking.”

“So you _are_ seeing someone?” Kaitlyn asks, and now everyone is looking at him. Everyone except Chris, who is determinedly watching the duck receive a time-out. 

“I’m… not sure?” Zig says, trying not to look at Chris. “Maybe?”

“What the hell does that mean?” asks Zack. 

Laura rolls her eyes. “It means yes but it's early and he doesn't wanna jinx it.”

Zig exhales. “Something like that,” he agrees. The subject is dropped. The duck thing is resolved. Chris shoots him little glances and chews on his lip. 

They should probably talk. 

~

“So… what should I have said? What should I say in the future?” Everyone else is either grocery shopping or on a date so Zig and Chris are the only ones left in the house. “I mean, I don't know if you wanna tell people. And if you do then I don't know what exactly there is to tell them.”

“I know,” says Chris, leaning back into the couch cushions. “Me neither. I mean, we've been on two dates. Does that count as dating? Does that count as _anything_?” He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes and sighs. “I’m sorry I didn't say anything when she asked, I just kind of panicked.”

“It's fine, I get it,” says Zig.

“Get what, though? Cause I don't want you to think that I- that I’m like, embarrassed or ashamed or anything, or- I don't know, just, I don't want you to worry.”

“Hey. Hey, come on, now.” Zig waits for Chris to look at him. “I’m not worried about that, alright? You don't have to do anything you're not ready to. I’m here either way.”

Chris sits silently for a long moment, just looking at him, and then he leans over and kisses him softly. “You're way too nice to me.”

Zig smiles, lacing his fingers through Chris’. “Probably.”

“Laura might already know,” Chris says. 

“Know what exactly?”

“I’m not sure? How much she knows, I mean. I told her over the summer that I was questioning my sexuality. I didn't say why but it wouldn't take much to figure out it was because of you.”

Zig… doesn't think he's ever been the catalyst for someone questioning their sexuality before. Huh. It’s… flattering. He looks at Chris, all shaggy hair and deep blue eyes and fidgeting hands. Okay, maybe it's more than flattering. Maybe it makes him feel like his heart is pumping something warm and fizzy instead of blood. It's cool, it's fine, it's no big deal. “Is that…” Zig swallows, trying to remember how breathing goes. There's a rhythm to it, he's pretty sure. “Is that okay with you? Laura knowing?”

“I mean, yeah, I'm the one who told her. I wouldn't mind any of our friends knowing. It's just, like you said, I'm not sure what there is to know.”

“Right.” Zig nods slowly. “So maybe we hold off on telling them until we figure out what to tell? You know, wait until we've got a better idea of what we're doing, whether it'll last. Until we're sure.”

Chris stares down at his hands for a minute and then nods. “Okay,” he says. “Until we're sure.”

~

They manage to go on a few more dates, and make out several more times in the locker room. It's maybe becoming a Thing. Zig can't say he minds. 

And the making out is nice and all, but what's nicer is _Chris_. He's sweet and caring and smart and determined and Zig already knew all those things about him but now he gets to see them from a new perspective. Chris always supported him and encouraged him and pushed him to make choices that could benefit him when they were just friends. Now he does all that and looks at Zig like he's the open sky on a clear night, cups his jaw and kisses him like he wants to taste the stars. 

He's pretty sure this is the exact emotion that motivated the invention of the heel click. 

Football is still stressful, partly because of games, more because of Manny, and mostly because Chris is still terrified of failing as captain and letting down the team. But they can deal with that. And if they can't, then Zig can at least distract Chris before he gives himself a panic attack. He’s gotten pretty good at distracting Chris by now. He plans to get even better. He plans to become the world’s leading expert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have ten thousand words of this all out of order in a google doc. why did i write it all out of order. reader, this may be how i die


	3. Chapter 3

It's their… actually, Chris has lost count. Their fifth-ish date. They started with a movie and then wandered around campus for a while under the pretense that Chris was walking Zig to his dorm before admitting that neither of them really wanted to say good night yet. Now they're sitting on a bench in the quad, holding hands and talking about whatever comes to mind. 

“Hey.” Zig looks sideways at him across the bench, mouth curled upward at the corner, eyes dark and warm as that summer night this all leads back to. “Are you gonna kiss me or do I have to beg?” 

“Begging might not be such a good idea,” Chris points out. “We’re in public.”

“Alright. How about I beg you some other time, then? In private.”

A shiver passes through him, tripping up the breath in his chest, the words on his tongue. It takes him a moment to get them sorted out. “It's a date,” he says. 

Zig must notice the hesitation because his brow crinkles a little as he looks steadily into Chris’ eyes. “Hey, am I making you nervous?” he asks. “Cause I can tone it down if you want.”

“No! No, I mean…” Chris takes a shuddery breath and holds Zig’s gaze. “Yeah, I’m nervous, of course I am, but it's a good nervous, you know?” It's the same kind of nervous he felt on his first day at Hartfeld, or when he ran for student council. It’s… “Like I’m doing something new and scary and exciting and maybe it means something. Like maybe I _want_ it to mean something.”

Zig nods, eyes softening. His thumb traces slow circles on Chris’ wrist. “What do you want it to mean?”

That's a hell of a question. Chris doesn't really have all the words he needs to answer it yet, but he's pretty sure he's getting closer. “Do you wanna go back to the house?” He asks instead. 

Dark. Warm. Mouth curled upward. “Yeah,” says Zig. “Yeah, I do.”

~

Chris stares at the ceiling.

It's not very interesting to look at but it's really his only option because if he shifts at all he might wake Zig, and he's pretty sure he could be thrown in jail for that. They spent a while talking and kissing and then it was midnight and Chris told him not to bother going back to his dorm and now Zig is sleeping warm and heavy at his side, legs tangled with Chris’, head resting against his shoulder. His body moves slowly with the peaceful rhythm of his breath. 

Twenty to life, Chris thinks. 

He can't sleep. It's not a problem he has often; his mother has used the phrase “like the dead” on several occasions. But there are just too many things taking up space in his head, too many moving parts on all of them. And one of the things is asleep in his bed. He's not sure if that's helping or hurting the situation. 

It's been a while since he's been in the beginnings of a relationship. There was the thing with Becca, but he doesn't really count that, neither of them having been particularly invested. Before that there was Nicole, and they had been, what, fifteen when they started dating? Simpler times, definitely. Now, here, everything is a hundred times more complicated. 

_Zig_ is complicated. He's quiet, doesn't much like to talk about himself. He varies between cautiously withdrawn and meltingly affectionate, though he's been tending more and more toward the latter. He’s Chris’ friend. He’s his teammate. He’s a man. 

None of this is news, obviously. Chris hasn't spent the last year mistaking Zig for a girl only to be struck dumb with the revelation now. And it's not a problem that Zig’s a guy, it's just kind of. Unexpected. Chris has been turning it over and over in his head since the party at the end of last school year, when Zig’s broad smile and heartfelt thanks made Chris’ heart trip over itself like a bad dancer. If he was waiting for something to just snap into place somehow and make the whole world make sense again… well. He’s still kind of waiting for that, honestly. But he has the sneaking suspicion he’s just gonna have to work through this the long way.

The word is bi, he knows. That's what it's called when you’ve loved girls before and still could if you felt like it, but you don't feel like it, because the only person who makes you feel like anything is the poster boy for Tall, Dark, and Handsome. So he knows what to call himself, he just isn't used to it. It doesn't sound right yet. The word feels strangely shaped in his mouth. 

He says it aloud into the darkness, just practicing. 

“Where’re you going?” Zig mumbles sleepily, breath warm against Chris’ skin. 

Chris looks down at him. His face is only half visible, smushed against Chris’ shoulder, and Chris suddenly needs to touch him, needs to feel how warm and solid and real he is. “Nowhere,” he says, turning into the curve of him. “Nowhere at all.”

~

“So… what’s up?”

Chris waits patiently for Zig to stop laughing.

“I’m sorry, it’s just-” Zig snorts and muffles more laughter into the pillow. “I just woke up next to you, and you look at me from across the bed, and you say ‘What’s up.’ That’s your opening line.”

Chris shrugs. “Good morning?”

Zig pulls Chris’ hand up from beneath the covers. “You,” he says, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, “are a big nerd.”

“How am I a nerd?” Chris protests. “I’m the captain of the football team. That’s peak jock.”

“You’re also student council president. And you just said ‘What’s up’ to the guy in your bed. Nerd.”

Chris rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Okay, fine. What should I have said?”

“Not ‘What’s up.’”

“We’ve already established that. This criticism is not constructive.”

“ _Nerd_.”

“Put it in a Yelp review, hater.”

If Zig keeps laughing this hard people are definitely going to notice he’s here.

~

They’re the last ones left in the locker room. It’s becoming pretty routine. Chris crams his bag into his locker, shuts the door, and turns to Zig. “Hey, so-”

“I don’t wanna talk about Manny,” Zig interrupts. “Can we just… pretend he doesn’t exist right now?”

“Yeah, of course.” Pretending Manny doesn’t exist sounds like the best, actually. He kind of wants to throw up any time he thinks too hard about the team in general. “How are things going with your roommates? Any better lately?”

“Actually, yeah,” says Zig. He sounds like he’s surprised by it himself. “Laura talked me into going to the petting zoo with Aaron, all three of us. It was kind of nice.”

Chris chuckles. “Trust Laura to meddle things better.”

“Yup. We bonded over goats.”

“Goats?"

“He even bought me a goat plushie.”

“That’s… adorable.”

“I know.” Zig settles on the bench, a long breath unspooling from inside him. “I think I judged him too fast. And maybe the rest of them too. I kind of just went in with the expectation they wouldn’t like me.”

“See, there’s your problem,” says Chris, sitting down sideways to face him. “That’s bad math. Five people can’t possibly be that stupid in the same place at the same time.”

“I never said they were stupid.”

“No, but they would have to be not to like you.”

Zig rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “I think you might be biased.”

“Nah, I just have good taste.”

Zig leans in and kisses him long and deep, hand in his hair, teeth in his bottom lip. Chris follows his mouth, dizzy and breathless, but Zig just pulls away and smirks. “Mmm. Butter pecan.”

Chris’ head falls onto Zig’s shoulder. “Bad joke. Very bad. Dumb.”

“What? I like it.”

~

As it turns out, Zig is always quick to laugh in the mornings. He’s also quick to smile, and to speak candidly, and to press his entire body up against Chris and just lie there like that, content in warmth and closeness. It’s… a lot. Chris finds himself feeling both completely overwhelmed and as though he should be saying some prayer of thanks. He’s not particularly religious but Zig Ortega wrapped around him wearing his sweatpants has to be a gift from _someone_ up there. He’s even slept over enough times to have chosen a favorite pair.

And the fact that no one seems to have noticed yet is nothing short of divine intervention. Really, they’re not even being subtle. Zig has eaten breakfast at their kitchen table wearing Chris’ clothes and a string of purple hickeys on his neck, and miraculously no one woke up to notice. It’s like the entire universe isn’t paying attention.

Chris wonders privately if maybe he wants someone to notice. It would make things simpler, honestly. He has to come clean at some point and he doesn’t know if he’s ready but he also doesn’t know how to know if he’s ready and even if he knew both of those things he doesn’t know how to start the conversation. It would kind of be a relief to have the matter taken out of his hands.

Either way, Zig comes over, they hang out, they fall asleep. They haven’t done anything beyond making out but, to be fair, they have done a _lot_ of that. And then Chris wakes up to find Zig beside him, either still asleep and clinging like he forgot the dryer sheets or awake and entertaining himself while he waits for Chris to wake up too.

It feels almost absurdly natural. 

It's _all_ starting to feel more natural.

Chris can say it aloud now, _bisexual_ , and he drops it into conversation sometimes just to get used to it, or to prove he can, or maybe just to remind himself. Zig’s eyes always crinkle at the corners when he does, and that helps. “You know,” he says to Zig once, “if you and me and Laura all stand next to each other we’re an NSYNC song.” Zig says, “I am breaking up with you for that joke.”

Chris just pulls him closer and kisses his neck until he goes all soft and pliant. “Nah, you’re not. You’d miss me too much.”

~

Kaitlyn’s band is debuting tonight, and she and Becca are trying to figure out how to cram as many people onto the property as is possible without constituting a fire hazard (which may be a real concern, given all the string lights the place is dripping with). Guests have started slowly filtering in and Becca has Chris playing host along with everyone else in the house. She seems to be focusing all of the energy she previously used to run the sorority on turning their home into Hartfeld’s party central and Chris knows from several parties’ worth of experience that it’s best to just follow orders and try to stay out of her way. So he greets people and offers refreshments and directs people toward the stage.

Once the entire population of the state of Connecticut is in their backyard, Kaitlyn grabs the mic. “Hey everyone, I hope y'all are ready to party!” The crowd lets loose the requisite cheer. “Hell yeah! Now enough talking, let’s play some music! We are TBD! That’s T-B-D for Total Breakdown!”

“Did she just make up that name on the spot?” a familiar voice asks as the first chords hit.

Chris turns to find Zig behind him, munching on a handful of pretzels. He’s distressingly perfect under the glow of the string lights, cheekbones more pronounced than usual, eyes darker than dark. For a moment Chris is pulled back to the night of the Aurora Music Festival, warm skin and shy smiles and grass beneath his hands. “Hey,” he says. Then he says, “I have no idea.” Then he says “Hey,” again.

Zig raises an eyebrow. “You alright there?”

“Yeah, just. You know, you’re lucky you don’t have to look at you when you talk to you. I don’t know how I’m forming sentences right now.”

Zig grins, eyes soft. “You kind of aren’t. I think you just said ‘you’ like ten times in a row.”

“Well there you go. I need a blindfold or something just to be intelligible.”

“Blindfolds, huh?” Zig crunches a pretzel. “Interesting.”

Alright, so Chris walked into that. He figures he might as well keep walking. “Hey, here’s an idea: let’s hang out for a few more songs and then sneak off to make out.”

Zig pretends to consider. “Hmm. Also interesting. Kaitlyn won’t kill us for disappearing on her?”

“Nah. It’s Becca you gotta watch out for.”

~

The porch swing creaks ominously under their combined weight. They hold still for a few seconds, staring at the chains holding it up. “It’s… probably fine,” says Chris. “Let’s just, uh. Try not to move too much.”

“Right. How old are these chains?”

“It’s fine. Probably.”

“Probably.” Zig takes his hand, lacing their fingers together. “What were we talking about?”

“God, I don’t know. I think I turn stupid when you touch me.”

“I’ll stop, then.” Zig moves to withdraw his hand.

Chris pulls it back. “Absolutely not.”

Zig just smiles.

It’s chilly tonight and they huddle up to share warmth. Chris rests his head on Zig’s shoulder and closes his eyes, feeling him breathe, smelling coffee and leather, listening to the sounds of the party that somehow seems remarkably far away. He feels Zig’s fingers scratch lightly through his hair. He could live like this, he thinks.

Just like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> baby teenage me used to just repeat the word "bisexual" to her own reflection before getting up the courage to say it to anyone else :( tragic
> 
> current me will take any opportunity to make an NSYNC joke :) triumph
> 
> also i'm trying not to stall out on this as is my wont but like. i'm so sick guys. i feel so gross and incoherent. and i have eaten _so many_ dry crackers today please help me


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so apparently the main character's default name is emily? why... why did i think it was laura. either way i'm keeping it because otherwise the joke with the mugs in chapter one doesn't work. i just wanna know how the hell i got laura from emily. that's not even my character's name

“Just this once, I can handle the pep talk,” Zig said.

He isn’t exactly sure what to say now. He leans back against the porch railing and looks over at Chris, who is staring blankly at absolutely nothing. Clearly he wasn’t kidding about the nerves.

Zig takes pity on him. “Look, I promise to try to be nice to Manny,” he says. “You’re right. As long as we’re stuck together I gotta be the bigger person.”

Chris nods, still staring. “Thanks.”

Zig feels something in him give way just a little and he rests a hand on Chris’ shoulder. “Hey. We’re gonna be okay, you know.”

“Yeah?”

Zig squeezes lightly and waits until Chris meets his eyes. “Yeah.”

Chris chews on his lip. “‘We’ the team or 'we’ you and me?”

Zig lets go of Chris’ shoulder and slings that arm over him instead, giving way completely. “Both,” he says. He pulls Chris toward him.

The tension in Chris’ body is plain to feel as he leans into Zig’s side. His voice is almost inaudible. “How can you be sure?”

“Because we’re a good team,” Zig says. “We’ve got a good group of guys. And also Manny.” Chris cracks half a smile. “And because you’re a natural leader. And handsome. And I like you. A lot.” He’s counting off on his fingers now and Chris is muffling quiet laughter against his shoulder. Ah, success.

Chris looks up at him, and Zig is momentarily stunned by the clear blue of his eyes. He's always a little stunned, really. “Alright,” Chris murmurs. “We’ll be okay.”

Zig threads a hand into Chris’ hair and kisses him once, gentle but sure.

“Mmm. How long do you think we have out here while they talk?”

Zig shrugs. “I don’t know, but I say we make the most of it.”

Which is probably why they end up making out on the porch swing. Zig takes full responsibility for that. Even if Chris is absolutely merciless and seems to have forgotten they’re outside. So maybe only partial responsibility.

“If you keep going with that I’m gonna do something inappropriate for a technically public area,” Zig says with some effort. His hand is tangled in Chris’ hair again. It lives there now, Zig thinks. He’s maybe a little dazed from Chris gnawing on his neck like a vampire at an all-you-can-eat buffet, not that he’s complaining.

“Right,” Chris says, surfacing. “Sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be.”

Chris smiles easily and leans into him, resting his head on Zig’s shoulder. Zig lays his head against Chris’ and they stay like that for a minute, not speaking. Just breathing. Rise and fall. Rise and fall.

“So we’re gonna be okay,” Chris says.

Zig strokes his thumb against Chris’ arm. “Definitely.”

“Good. Cause I don’t…” he trails off. Zig waits, keeps stroking. Chris sits up and turns to look him in the eye. “Zig, I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this with someone before.” It’s such a romance movie line, but Chris is so plainly earnest about it that Zig can’t bring himself to mind. “I think we should tell our friends. I’m sure.”

Zig takes Chris’ face in his hands and just holds him for a moment, just looks into those honest eyes. He presses a kiss to Chris’ forehead and smiles, feeling warmer than he has any right to in this weather. “Me too,” he says.

Chris leans into him again, nose to nose. “Let’s just stay here for a while.”

~

Zig wakes up to a crick in his neck and Chris insistently nudging his shoulder. “Wassup?” he mumbles, eyes half closed.

“It’s almost 2am. We fell asleep.”

Zig blinks a few times. Chris is standing in front of him and Zig is freezing although he swears he was perfectly cozy like a minute ago. “I did no such thing,” he protests, just for the hell of it. “I was… resting.”

Chris lets out a quiet laugh and Zig beams sleepily. “You were snoring.”

“What? I don’t snore.”

“How would you know if it only happens while you’re asleep?”

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

Chris rolls his eyes, failing to hide a fond smile. “Will you quit arguing and come to bed with me?”

Zig stands up so fast he overbalances and Chris has to catch him. “I’m up.”

“Ha ha,” says Chris.

“You know I’m with you for your personality, right?”

Chris drags him toward the door. “Whatever you say, you big galoot.”

“Galoot? What is this, the fifties?”

“Based on your outfit, it might be.”

Zig gasps. “Mean! You know, you’ve been so much cattier since I turned you bi.”

“Then I guess you only have yourself to blame.” Chris opens the front door slowly, wincing a little at the creak. He makes a 'hush’ gesture at Zig and they tiptoe through the living room past Abby, who’s asleep on the couch fully dressed with the lights still on. Chris pulls a throw blanket over her as they pass and Zig flicks the lights off. They ascend the stairs as quietly as possible.

When they reach the door to Chris’ room Zig immediately drapes himself over Chris in the most cumbersome manner possible and refuses to let go. Chris tilts his head back and sighs wearily. “I got impatient,” Zig tells him.

“My bed is literally six feet away through this door,” Chris says. “Do you think you can survive the few seconds it will take me to open it?” Zig loosens his hold reluctantly. “Thank you, human straitjacket.”

They strip down to their underwear and collapse onto the bed like twin bags of cement. Chris is snoring softly the minute his head hits the pillow. Zig hums contentedly and gathers him up in his arms. At least two of his extremities will be numb when he wakes up, but he’s pretty sure he can live with that.

~

It takes an artful extraction of his arm and a lot of clenching and unclenching before Zig regains the feeling in his hand the next morning. Chris sleeps right through it. He always does. Once, Zig counted the faint freckles scattered across Chris’ cheekbones as he slept, poking each one as he went, just to see if it would wake him. He lost count three times and ultimately gave up before Chris stopped snoring and opened his eyes at exactly 8:00.

It’s 8:13 according to the clock on the nightstand when they broach the subject of what Chris said last night.

“So,” Zig says, linking his fingers with Chris’, “you’re sure.”

Chris doesn’t ask him to clarify. “For a while now. I should’ve said so sooner, and I’m sorry. I’ve just been nervous.”

"I know." Zig kisses him lightly, more a reassurance than anything. Chris has a tendency to throw himself headfirst into everything he does. Inevitably it would make this even more daunting. "How do you wanna tell them?"

Chris shrugs. "To be honest I'm more worried about when. I mean, we just found out we're gonna be gone until the end of winter break."

"And you don't wanna say 'Hey, by the way, we're boyfriends, see ya later' as we're getting on the bus."

Chris grimaces. "It seems kinda tacky." He nestles his head against Zig's chest. "Say 'boyfriends' again."

"Boyfriends."

"Again."

"I'm your boyfriend."

"I like that."

Zig buries a grin in Chris' hair. "Me too." Chris lets out a quiet hum and Zig closes his eyes, feeling the sound vibrate through his body. "So how do we not be tacky?"

"I don't know. We definitely can't tell them, like, over Skype. That's way worse."

"So we strategically leak a sex tape?"

"It _does_ seem like the classy way to go." Chris shifts to look him in the eyes again. "I don't want to wait til after break."

"We're kind of running out of options here."

Chris sighs and rolls onto his back. "I know. I just feel guilty. We've already gone this long without saying anything, and the longer we go the weirder it's gonna be. I'm not someone who keeps secrets; I don't know how to do this."

Zig drapes an arm over him. "We'll figure it out."

"I just don't want anyone to be hurt that we didn't tell them."

"Hmm. Well, worst comes to worst, just remember: I'll blame it all on you and tell them how you seduced me."

Chris lets out a peal of incredulous laughter. "You mean how I stumbled my way through telling you I liked you and then you kissed me?"

"I remember it being a lot more mutual," says Zig.

"After weeks," Chris continues, " _weeks_ of you purposely sitting too close to me and stretching in front of me and doing that smirk thing you do where your eyes, like, _twinkle_ , which I don't even know how you do."

Zig purses his lips. "I will admit to doing some of those things. Not for the purpose of seduction, but because I had a terrible crush on you."

"Face it," says Chris, "if we told this story at church camp I would be the naïve former heterosexual and you would be the cunning villain who converted me to the devil's ways."

"Hey, you like the devil's ways."

"I do," Chris agrees, mouth veering dangerously close to Zig's neck. If he starts with that Zig might actually forget how to do basic things like talk, or breathe.

So it's possibly self preservation instinct that makes him say "Hold on, did you actually go to church camp?" Chris freezes with his nose against Zig's jugular. "Oh my god, you did."

"I -- it was one summer! My mom was working and she didn’t have anywhere to put me, I was ten, what was I supposed to do, say no?"

Zig gawks at him, delighted. "Oh my god."

"It wasn't like, creepy or anything, it was just normal summer camp! Only there were hymns instead of camp songs."

"Oh my _god_. Did I order you out of a Lands’ End catalogue?"

"This is bullying. You're bullying me on the basis of religion."

"I saw you on page eight standing in a meadow holding hands with a blond girl in matching sweaters and I called the number and had you sent to my address."

"Well, I hope you sprung for priority shipping."

"Had ‘em poke air holes and everything."

Chris buries his face in Zig's shoulder and Zig can feel the tremor of his laughter. He catches himself glowing a little. Chris looks up at Zig. "It's a good thing you're so hot," he says, "cause you're super mean." 

"Uh huh. Sure. So, church boy," Zig says, ignoring Chris' long suffering groan, “are you feeling at all repressed?"

Chris' eyebrows shoot up. "Repressed? There's a half naked man in my bed."

"Because," Zig continues, "I would be willing to help you with that. Out of the generosity of my heart."

Chris snorts. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days."

~

“Manny! Hey -- oh, for fuck’s sake -- hey, _Manny_!” Zig jogs out of the coffee shop after him.

Manny turns and sneers at him. “What the hell do you want, Twig? I don’t wanna talk to you.”

“Yeah, I figured that out,” Zig snaps. “You’re not exactly subtle.”

“I’m not trying to be. So, what. The hell. Do you want.” He punctuates his words with slow, heavy steps toward Zig, clearly trying to appear menacing. Zig thinks he comes off more like a petulant child and has to bite his tongue against the impulse to say so. 

Instead, he takes a deep breath and forces himself to relax. “I am trying to make peace with you,” he says. “Can you let me do that?”

Manny crosses his arms. “Peace? I don't wanna be your friend.”

“That’s fine, me neither. But I don't want to keep fighting with you either. We’re on the same team, Manny, we should act like it.”

“I’m not gonna be all buddy-buddy with you like your little boyfriend, Chris.”

Zig resists the urge to laugh. Manny doesn’t need to know he’s accidentally hit the nail on the head. “I’m not saying we have to be buddies. Will you please listen to me for just a second?”

Manny blinks, probably thrown off by the ‘please.’ Zig’s not sure he’s familiar with the word. “Fine. I’m listening.”

Oh thank god. “Good. Like I said, Manny, we’re on the same team, and as long as we’ve got drama we’re interfering with that team’s performance. Especially with Nationals coming. It’s in the Knights’ best interest that we learn to coexist.” 

“Alright, that… doesn’t sound like total bullshit. I don’t want to lose.”

“Me neither.” Zig lets out a long breath, feeling a little of the weight lifted from his shoulders. “Can I just ask, why is it you don’t like me in the first place? I mean obviously we don’t get along, but it seems like more than that, like you hated me on sight.”

Manny takes a step back. “What are you talking about?” He looks nervous, his eyes flickering over Zig like he’s trying to figure out his game. 

Zig makes an effort to appear as sincere as possible. Open posture, solemn face. “I just think if I knew what this was about then maybe we could-”

“See, this is _exactly_ what I don’t fuckin like about you. Thinking you’re better than everyone with all your pussy feelings bullshit. I told you I’m not your fucking friend, so just _back off_ , Twig.” He turns and storms off.

“What? Manny, what the hell are you-” Oh, he’s giving Zig the finger over his shoulder. That’s nice. Zig stands there on the sidewalk, wishing he had about a dozen pillows to scream into, one after another. 

So he guesses it went better than expected. 

~

Zig grabs Chris’ knee to stop it bouncing. 

Chris lets out a slightly shaky laugh. “Sorry,” he says, “it’s just. This is a lot, you know?”

They’re an hour or so into the bus ride to Nationals and Chris has been a humanoid mass of nervous energy since they sat down. Well, all season, really. All year? Possibly since he was born. At least he seems to be more excited than anxious now, keeping up his cheer no matter how many rounds of ‘99 bottles of beer’ the guys up front talk everyone into singing.

“I know,” says Zig, “but you’re shaking the whole bus, man. We’re drifting lanes. I’m about to sit on you.”

Chris licks his lips. “I wouldn’t complain.” He leans back in his seat, legs parted invitingly, and raises an eyebrow.

Zig swallows hard. He knows Chris is just being playful, but come on. He’s only human. “In front of the whole team, Casanova?”

“To be honest, I don’t think any of them are looking back here. They’re about to get to 69 bottles of beer again; we would have to set ourselves on fire to draw their attention.” He leans in to murmur in Zig’s ear, all too aware of his weaknesses by now. “Or I could go back over that hickey on your neck and we could see how long you manage to stay quiet.”

Zig groans and slumps against the window. “Why are you trying to kill me. What have I ever done to you.”

Chris just laughs. 

His boyfriend is evil.

~

Once they’re checked in at the hotel the team is left to divide up the rooms amongst themselves. Chris and Zig pair up, because duh. Or, in Chris’ words as he hands Zig a key card, “Here. Room 228. I don’t think either of the beds are heart-shaped but we’ll make do somehow.”

Zig’s pretty sure only one of those offensively rectangular beds is getting slept in.

~

Later, Chris is kissing a meandering trail down Zig's abdomen when he suddenly pulls away. "Sorry," he mumbles, sitting back on his heels, shoulders all hunched up like a spooked cat. "Sorry, I should- I should stop."

Zig blinks up at him, catching his breath. "Okay. You don't have to, but if you want to then okay."

"I really, _really_ don't want to. But I should."

Zig sits up and reaches for Chris, tilting his chin so their eyes meet. "Hey. Talk to me."

Chris bites his lip for a second and then goes boneless, head thunking onto Zig's shoulder. "This is gonna sound so stupid."

"No, it won't."

"I..." Chris sighs. "I'm a traditional sort of guy, right? I can't have sex without love. I don't _want_ to, I never have."

Zig exhales slowly. "Okay," he says, trying very hard to sound reassuring and not like he is terrified of where this is going.

"If I have sex with you that means I love you. If I love you that means I fell in love without telling anyone. Without telling my best friends." His voice wavers a little. "Without telling my mom."

Oh. _Oh_. That's... a relief, but still heartbreaking in a totally different way. Zig holds him tightly. "Oh, Chris."

"I don't want to love you and hide it. I don't want to be someone who does that, it doesn't feel right."

Zig kisses his temple. "Okay. So don't."

Chris looks up at him, confused.

"We press pause," says Zig. "We do the same thing we've been doing. We don't go any further and we don't say anything that we don't want to have said in secret." He brushes Chris’ hair back off his forehead. "You can talk to your mom next time you see her. Tell her anything you feel like you might need to tell her. We'll talk to our friends when we get back to school. And then we can move forward from there, in whatever way does feel right."

Chris is looking at him like... well, it's the same way Zig is sure he looks at Chris. Leave it at that. "Okay," he says. "But I want you to know you are making this very difficult."

"What? How?" asks Zig. He was trying for the opposite.

"I mean you're being extremely irresistible right now," Chris tells him. "With all the compassion and understanding. It's very sexy."

Zig laughs. "I'll keep that in mind. If I ever need to turn you on in a pinch I'll just counsel some troubled youths or volunteer at a soup kitchen or something."

"Mmmm," says Chris, pushing him flat on the bed. He descends, predictably, on Zig's neck.

"God, okay, now _you're_ making this difficult."

Chris smiles against his collarbone. "Live with it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have the power of god and hyperfocus on my side
> 
> also i have no idea how nationals work. or football in general. like, at all. i see a football and i say "what is that large lemon doing here? is it sukkot again already"


End file.
